


Buongiorno, Roma!

by Zoelily



Series: Cockles Moments [13]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bratty Jensen, Cockles, Fluffy Smut, JIBCon9, M/M, Mentions of clothes sharing, Misha's perfectly cuffed pants, Rome - Freeform, Slightly Dom Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 21:44:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14656839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoelily/pseuds/Zoelily
Summary: It's a beautiful morning in Rome.





	Buongiorno, Roma!

**Author's Note:**

> This was largely inspired by both Jensen's Instagram Selfie from Rome and Misha's perfectly cuffed pants, which let's face it, we all know he didn't do himself.

The elegant stone Spanish Steps were already bustling with locals and tourists alike, cradling their morning cappuccino or, his personal favourite, caffè lungo, and a book or a newspaper to bask an hour in the early sunshine. Jensen could feel the heat prickling the back of his neck as he strained his chest over the windowsill to see down to the busy Piazza de Spagna. It was gonna be another hot one. He tugged his phone out of his pocket and snapped a selfie, angling the screen to capture the famous Italian landmark in the frame. Jensen looked down at the result and marvelled at how relaxed and carefree he looked - all golden skin and bright smile. Misha would say he was ‘being present’ and Jensen felt it. He always did in Rome. 

  


The man who was a largely responsible for his Italian Zen chose that moment to wrap his strong arms around Jensen’s waist and whisper into the nape of his neck. 

  


“Enjoying the view?”

  


“Mmm,” he hummed, melting into the firm yet welcoming softness of Misha’s body. “It’s like another world here. I never get tired of it.”

  


Misha nodded his head, resting it on Jensen’s shoulder. Somehow Misha was the perfect height to slot his chin into Jensen’s collar bone, like two adjacent pieces of a 3D puzzle that help to anchor the rest of the structure. 

  


“It’s the history and the intrigue.  Every insignificant, ancient, detail tells a story. It’s all very poetic, Jen.” Misha explained, splaying his elegant fingers across Jensen’s stomach and fiddling aimlessly with his t-shirt. “Listening to the lilt of the language all around you while exploring the architecture that’s been here hundreds of years before us.  It’s all very fascinating.”

  


Jensen completely relaxed into Misha’s embrace, covering Misha’s fidgety hand with his own and lacing their fingers. “You make it sound so romantic,” he said with a half-hearted chuckle. 

  


“Well don’t you think so?” Misha asked, sliding his tanned arms to Jensen’s waist and turning him until they were face to face. “ _ Roma! _ \- it’s so  _ bellissimo  _ and the city is full of  _ romanza  _ everywhere you go.”

  


He couldn't help but kiss that beautiful pink mouth; smiling into the warm dryness of Misha’s lips then pulling back with a grin. “Your Italian needs work, but as usual, the accent was fucking great,” Jensen said with a laugh. 

  


“Thank you,” Misha murmured, taking a moment to nuzzle into the spot where Jensen’s t-shirt met his neck. Jensen knew Misha was cognizant of not leaving any marks, so he just tilted his head and enjoyed the attention. 

  


“I’ve been practicing that one just for you,” Misha growled in his ear. 

  


Jensen shivered. Misha knew what those damn accents did to him, but Jensen also knew they were ruled by the clock right now, and time wasn’t on their side this morning. 

  


“Dammit, Mish. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  


“Mmm, I know,” Misha grumbled, depositing one more well placed lick on Jensen’s neck before dropping his arms and stepping back. Jensen had to stifle his audible reactions to both. The semi in his jeans was a good indication he was already more worked up than he should be an hour before he needed to be on stage.  

  


Straightening his shirt and running his fingers back through his hair, Jensen tugged off his sunglasses and took in Misha’s appearance, trying not to look too much like he was ogling as he looked him up and down. Misha looked fantastic in his newer dark jeans, the ones that showed off his strong thighs and firm ass, and a deep blue Carhart shirt that brought out the colour of his eyes. Could’ve been a size or two smaller, but that was Misha. His confidence was a part he played beautifully, but little tells like his layers and oversized shirts were spoke to a safety net that only those that knew him intimately were privy to. Jensen felt privileged to be counted in that precious few.

  


You look amazing,” Jensen said, feeling the heat flushing at his neck and threatening to reach his cheeks. He still wasn’t used to saying things like that, even when he meant them wholeheartedly.  Over-exposure to toxic masculinity sure did a number on a person. He shrugged off that thought as soon as it entered his head. “New shirt?” He asked. 

  


“Yes. Vick picked it up in Seattle last week, actually.”  Misha spun around, ending his uncoordinated pirouette in a comical pose with his arms out and a goofy grin on his face. Damn, Jensen loved that smile. “What do you think?” Misha asked, and Jensen had to reset for a second to realize he was talking about the shirt. 

  


“I love it!” Jensen moved forward to brush his palms down the front of Misha’s crisp button-down. “You look sharp. The crowd is gonna be disappointed you’re not wearing something of mine though. I brought a shirt for you. You sure you don’t want it?”

  


Misha laughed. “We’re seriously gonna give them all aneurysms. I better stick to my own clothes today.”

  


“Alright,” Jensen said with feigned resignation, “The offer still stands though. I have no doubt I’ll get you in my clothes sometime this weekend. It’s inevitable.”

  


Misha took a step forward. “What’s inevitable, Jens, is how quickly I will be able to get you out of your clothes later.”

  


Jensen’s knees weakened at Misha’s tone. His inner brat wanted to see how far he could push Misha’s buttons, but with how little time they had, he knew he’d be playing with fire. He couldn’t help but grin at Misha’s words though. The idea of being naked and spread out for his lover was an enticing one. 

  


“You’re smiling now,” Misha continued.  “Let’s see how you’re doing after a few hours on stage dealing with this.” 

  


Jensen couldn’t stop the groan that escaped when Misha cupped his entire package and squeezed with just enough pressure to bring Jensen to near full hardness, clearly fully aware of what he was doing. “I suspect it could be a frustrating day for you.”

  


Jensen willed his heart rate to slow and he stepped back, shaking his head to clear it. “You’re an asshole,” he said, with no malice. He loved this game, and Misha knew it. 

  


He looked at the floor in an attempt to calm himself and took in Misha’s striped socks and too-long pants. 

  


“You gotta cuff your jeans, Mish.”

  


“Damn. Can you do it?” Misha asked, exasperation clear on his face. “They’re always lopsided when I do them.”

  


“Yeah, I got you,” Jensen replied softly, staring up at Misha through his lashes as he sunk to his knees in front of Misha’s socked feet. Now that he was here, face to face with the bulge in Misha’s jeans, there was no way he could resist just a touch. They were running out of time, but he needed this; needed to feel the evidence of the arousal he’d caused.

  


Jensen rubbed his cheek against Misha’s zipper. When he felt the twitch of Misha’s cock, he nuzzled towards it, burying his face in the growing hardness. His hands snuck around to grab at Misha’s ass and he squeezed his fingertips through the denim. Misha growled. 

  


“Fuck. Baby, you said we didn’t have time. 

  


With the wrecked sound of Misha’s voice urging him on, Jensen made a split second decision.  He unclipped Misha’s ridiculous unicorn belt buckle, undid the belt and lowered the zipper on his jeans. “I want you,” Jensen hummed as he reached into Misha’s open fly and pulled out his fully erect cock. “I’m making time.”

  


Misha’ response to that was inaudible when Jensen took the head of Misha’s cock into his mouth and circled his tongue around it.  The weight of it; the heat of it against his tongue was perfect and Jensen licked and sucked until he reached Misha’s bush and then pulled off to do it again. He licked down the shaft until he got to Misha’s balls and took each into his mouth, rolling them around with his tongue while Misha moaned out his name. 

  


Jensen fucking loved sucking Misha’s dick. He’d always enjoyed giving a good blow job, almost more than receiving one, but Misha had the perfect sized and proportioned, un-cut cock and the way he responded when Jensen opened his throat and swallowed around him made Jensen want to give him everything he had. 

  


Jensen palmed himself through his jeans, trying to take the edge off. He was so goddamn worked up but pressing down on himself with his fingers was just making it worse. He needed to push up against something to fuck down onto something. He wanted to be filled. He pulled his hand away and focused on pleasuring Misha. Every beautiful sound that Misha uttered became a push to shoot for the next one. When Misha’s hips began to rock, Jensen grabbed two handfuls of Misha’s ass and crashed them together, gagging just a bit at the forcefulness of Misha’s thrust. 

  


“Jen. Oh, fuck yeah. Baby, that’s good,” Misha babbled as he fucked into Jensen mouth with purpose. Jensen could feel the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes and fuck he was floating. God he loved this.

  


“I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come down your throat, Jen. You ready?”

  


Jensen couldn’t stand it any more. He let go of Misha’s ass and made quick work of his belt and zipper. The relief he felt when he finally wrapped his hand around his cock was short lived. Misha words hit him like a Mac truck and he felt his balls tighten and every muscle in his abdomen start to tense up. He nodded at Misha then tilted his head back, opening his throat for Misha’s final few thrusts.  

  


As soon as he felt Misha’s come hit the back of his throat, Jensen’s orgasm punched through him. He tried to suck Misha dry, listening to the beautiful sounds he makes when he comes, while pumping his own cock through an intense round of aftershocks. 

  


It was a knock at the door that brought both of them back to the present.  After hollering to say they’d be right out it took a bit of scrambling to tuck themselves back in, get Misha’s pants cuffed evenly, and clean Jensen’s come off the mosaic tile floor. Jensen felt a little guilty about that. 

  


“So that happened,” Jensen said, grinning at Misha as they both gathered their wallets, phones, and room keys. 

  


Misha leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. “Yes it did.”  Then Misha pinched his ass. “Don’t think you’re off the hook for being naked in my bed later though, you brat.”

  


“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it,” Jensen said with a wink.

  


“Damn. I wanna upload that pic to Instagram quick” Jensen rushed out, suddenly remembering the photograph he taken earlier. “Just gimme sec.”

  


He pulled up the Instagram app on his phone, loaded the pic and thought about what to write as a caption. He smiled as he considered how his day had started and what he had to look forward to and typed out a few words. “There,” he said and passed Misha his phone to show him the screen. 

  


**Buongiorno, Roma!!! What a beautiful day to spend with friends. #jib9 #spanishsteps #spnfamily**

  


“Perfect,” Misha agreed. 

  


Jensen pocketed his phone and squeezed Misha hand one more time before opening the door. It was gonna be a great day. 

  



End file.
